Chapter 24
Kira
Day seven in the safehouse, and I'm learning what it means to live in limbo.
We can't leave—too dangerous, Roman's men are still hunting us. But we can't stay forever either. The walls press in closer every day, the small space feeling smaller with each hour.
Maksim and Semyon spend their days planning. Semyon has allies he trusts, but not enough to make Maksim comfortable enough to bring them to the safehouse.
Apparently, they are going to try and do this without violence. They want to expose Roman and let things take their natural course. That means the bratva handles the punishment. Betrayal means death. Roman deserves to die.
Semyon is an absolute saint. He’s used his connections to get Anya art supplies. It keeps her busy, but I hate how quiet she’s been. She’s scared. I get it. Roman wants me dead, but he wants her for far more sinister reasons.
I pace. I think. I try not to go crazy from the inactivity after years of constant motion. It’s strange to not be in control. But also, good. I’m happy to leave things to Maksim. I trust him. I trust Semyon. They know this world. It’s a change for me, but…
It comes with relief.
The adrenaline from our escape has long since faded, leaving behind exhaustion that settles into my bones.
I'm tired all the time. Bone-deep weariness that sleep doesn't fix. I feel like we sleep a lot. I sleep because I’m trying to make Maksim rest. He seems to be more inclined to do so when I lay next to him.
And the nausea. God, the nausea.
At first, I blamed stress. We're hiding from a murderous crime lord who wants us dead. Of course, my stomach is upset.
But it's been a week now, and instead of improving, it's getting worse. And if I think back, I wasn’t feeling great before Roman decided to throw me in a dungeon. The smell of the meat from the butcher shop below makes me gag. Coffee—which I used to love—turns my stomach.
And then this morning, I realized I had missed my period.
The thought hits me in the tiny bathroom, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror. When was the last time? Before the engagement party? Before Roman moved me into the compound?
I count backward, and ice floods my veins.
Six weeks. Maybe seven.
The timing coincides perfectly with the first time we were together at the engagement party.
No. No, this can't be happening.
Except my body is telling me it is. The exhaustion. The nausea. The missed period. The way my breasts are tender, and my emotions are all over the place.
I'm pregnant.
The realization makes my legs weak. I sink onto the toilet lid, head in my hands, trying to process this.
Pregnant. With Maksim's child. In the middle of a war that could get us all killed.
"Kira?" Anya's voice outside the door. "You okay? You've been in there a while."
"Fine." My voice sounds strangled. "Just—give me a minute."
I need to be sure. Need confirmation before I tell anyone. Before this becomes real.
Now, I have to figure out a way to leave the apartment.
I open the bathroom door and find Anya sketching at the small table. She looks up, her eyes immediately narrowing.
"You look pale."
"I'm fine." I move past her toward the bedroom where I left my borrowed clothes. "Just tired."
"You're always tired lately." She sets down her pencil. "Maybe you should ask Semyon to check you out. Make sure nothing's infected or—"
"I'm fine," I repeat, pulling on jeans and a hoodie. "I just need some air."
"We can't go outside."
"I know." I find a baseball cap in the closet and tuck my hair up under it. "But I need to run to the pharmacy. Just down the block. Ten minutes, tops."
Anya stands, alarm crossing her face. "Kira, no. That's too dangerous. Roman's men could be anywhere."
"They're looking for a woman with long dark hair, not someone in a hoodie and cap." I'm already moving, checking my reflection in the small mirror by the door. I look different enough. Masculine enough with my hair hidden. "I'll be careful."
"What do you need from a pharmacy that badly?" She's following me now, her voice rising. "Kira, this is crazy. If Maksim knew—"
"Maksim is downstairs with Semyon meeting with people. He won't know unless you tell him." I turn to face her, keeping my voice low. "Anya, please. I need to do this. I need... I just need something from the pharmacy, okay?"
Her eyes search mine, and I see the moment understanding dawns. Her face goes soft with shock.
"Oh," she breathes. "Oh, Kira."
"Don't." I hold up a hand. "Not yet. Not until I'm sure."
"You think you're—"
"I don't know what I think." I pull the cap lower. "That's why I need to go to the pharmacy. To know for certain."
She stares at me with indecision. Then she crosses to the kitchen drawer and pulls out a small handgun.
"Take this."
"Anya—"
"If you're going out there, you're taking protection." Her jaw sets in a way that reminds me she's not the scared young woman Roman tried to marry. She's stronger than that now. "And if you're not back in ten minutes, I'm coming after you. And I’m telling Maksim."
I take the gun, checking the safety before tucking it into my waistband. "Ten minutes. I promise."
"Kira." She grabs my arm. "Be careful. Please."
"Always am." I press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Ten minutes."
I slip out the door before she can argue further. The hallway is empty, the building quiet except for muffled voices from the apartment below where Maksim and Semyon are meeting.
I take the back stairs, avoiding the main entrance. The alley behind the building smells like garbage and stale beer, but it's empty. I pull the cap lower and start walking.
The pharmacy is two blocks away according to the sign I saw from the window. Two blocks there, grab what I need, two blocks back. Easy.
Except nothing has been easy since Maksim came back from the dead.
The street is busy enough—people going about their normal lives, unaware that a few blocks away, men are planning a war. I keep my head down, hands in my pockets, trying to blend in.
A man passes too close. My hand automatically goes to the gun. But he's just checking his phone, oblivious to my existence.
I force myself to breathe. To act normal. I'm just another person running errands. Nothing suspicious.
I push through the door of the pharmacy.
The store is nearly empty. An elderly woman browsing vitamins. A bored cashier scrolling on her phone. No one who looks like Roman's men.
I head straight for the family planning section, scanning the shelves. There—pregnancy tests. Multiple brands, multiple options.
I grab two different ones, not caring about price or features. Just need answers.
At the counter, the cashier barely glances at me as she rings them up. I pay in cash—Semyon gave us emergency money—and shove the tests into my hoodie pocket.
"Have a nice day," the cashier says automatically.
I'm already heading for the door.
The walk back feels longer. Every shadow could hide danger. Every person could be watching.
My hand stays on the gun in my waistband, finger near the trigger.
Two blocks. Almost there.
I turn into the alley, and my heart stops.
A man is standing near the back door. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing the kind of expensive suit that screams bratva. He turns as I approach, and I see his face. He frowns. I recognize him. He’s one of Semyon’s guys.
“You’re not supposed to be out,” he says.
“I went for a walk. I’m back.”
“Boss know?”
“Nope, but I guess we know you’re going to tell him.”
I walk past him and jog up the stairs. Maksim will be pissed, but I’ll deal with him later.
Anya hops up. “Did you get it?”
“Yes. Tell me if they come back.”
I head straight for the bathroom, lock the door, and pull out the first test.
The instructions blur together. My hands shake as I follow them. Then I wait.
Three minutes. The longest three minutes of my life.
The timer on my phone goes off.
I look at the test.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
My legs give out, and I sink to the bathroom floor, staring at the plastic stick that just changed everything.
Maybe it's a false positive. Maybe I did it wrong.
I take the second test. Different brand. Same result.
I'm pregnant. With Maksim's child. No doubt about it.
The mixture of emotions is overwhelming.
Terror—how can I bring a child into this world, this danger?
Wonder at the thought there's a life growing inside me, created from love even if the timing is terrible.
But the crushing, absolute responsibility for this tiny potential person is what makes me feel nauseous.
A knock on the door. "Kira?"
"Just a minute," I manage.
I reach over and unlock the door. Anya steps inside, and her eyes immediately go to the tests.
"Oh my God," she breathes.
"Yeah." I'm still sitting on the floor. I can't seem to make myself stand.
She closes the door quickly and sinks down beside me on the cold tile. "You're pregnant."
"Apparently." My laugh sounds hysterical. "Fantastic timing, right? In the middle of a war, hiding from people who want to kill us, and I'm pregnant."
"Does Maksim know?"
"No. And I don't know how to tell him. We've barely figured out how to trust each other again. We're still working through six years of damage. And now I'm supposed to tell him we're having a baby?"
"He'll be happy," Anya says quietly.
"Will he?" I look at her. “How is a baby supposed to fit into this mess?"
"Life doesn't wait for convenient timing."
"Clearly. God, what am I going to do?"
The responsibility feels overwhelming. Not just for my own life anymore—I've been risking that for years. But for the innocent life growing inside me. A child who didn't ask to be conceived in the middle of chaos.
"What are you going to do?" Anya asks softly.
The question hangs in the air. Because there are choices here. Options that maybe I should consider given the circumstances.
But even as I think it, I know the answer.